


Aphrodisia

by Laura_McEwan



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-31
Updated: 2005-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_McEwan/pseuds/Laura_McEwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are inexplicably drawn together. Written for the MA Fundraiser Zine, Fall 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aphrodisia

The whisper in the back of his mind tested his endurance; he excused himself as courteously as he could from the king's court, away from his plate of barely-touched exotic foods and pipes of politely refused opiate smoke, into clean, fresh air and a sharp-starred night. The noise of the party withdrew into background murmurs, and eventually faded altogether as he made his way to a stand of trees, dead leaves hanging limply from branches silhouetted against the moon, twisted roots exposed above the dry, windblown ground. The whisper itself, though, only increased in its insistence, and in return, his body responded as if touched by a lover.

Qui-Gon reached along the training bond to touch his apprentice, and the whisper intensified again. Direct contact on the bond had not been possible this night; attempts were only met with a muted buzz, one that sharpened as he approached the grove. Courtesans had absconded with the young man shortly after their arrival at the temporary royal quarters, as the king only wished for Qui-Gon to attend him during dinner. "He will be fed," was all he would say, and Qui-Gon remembered Obi-Wan smiling at the lightly-clad girls who had clung to his arms, petting his hair and tugging on his hands as they had led him to another tent some distance away. Qui-Gon was not overly worried that his apprentice would succumb to their effusive charms; he had known the nature of Obi-Wan's sexual interests for many years now, and had rebuffed a tentative advance himself, once. Not that he hadn't been tempted—he was but a man, after all—but Obi-Wan was his student still, grown man or no.

He tipped his head back and contemplated the stars wheeling above. Silence surrounded him, as if a jar had been turned over him and the space he held. He felt his cock stiffened in response to…something. In a sudden daze, he turned.

As if hewn from silver stone, the moonlight glittering on the fine hairs of his skin, Obi-Wan looked like one of the pagan gods worshipped by the inhabitants of this planet. Qui-Gon could not look away; no, he was drawn, forced step by step toward his apprentice, now other-worldly; not his Jedi, no—now a needy presence: lustful, erotic, his body fed by the courtesans with aphrodisiacs and wines, likely the same as had been given Qui-Gon. Now Qui-Gon wanted his share—he would take it from this creature. His clothes fell aside as he came closer, until, erect and wanting, they stood before each other, barely breathing.

Blue eyes bored into green, both burning with an inner fire that smoldered and sparked, visible even in the midnight darkness.

Qui-Gon's breath hitched. One hand slowly raised, fingers lax, to brush languidly down Obi-Wan's chest, goosebumps tippling the flesh beneath his fingertips. He drifted his hand sideways, to skim the edge of one nipple, sighing in pleasure as the tiny nub hardened at his touch. The sigh was matched by Obi-Wan's, the only noise or movement the young man had made since he had first appeared.

"Obi-Wan—I don't know why…" Qui-Gon's hands trembled and he rested them gently on Obi-Wan's shoulders. "I want you. That's all I know. And I shouldn't. But I do."

Obi-Wan stared deeply into his master's eyes, saying nothing but expressing so much, then slowly leaned forward to rest his own hands on Qui-Gon's hips, to flicker the end of his tongue to taste of his master's skin.

A low moan emanated from the surrounding darkness, causing both men to pull apart suddenly.

"The Oo-Wah-a-Tah," Obi-Wan murmured, reaching for Qui-Gon again. "They are watching."

Qui-Gon nodded. "The courtesans?" The planet's natives were the ones who had plied Obi-Wan, and by bond transference, Qui-Gon, with the foods that brought them helplessly together now.

"Some of them. And others. Perhaps the king himself. Master, I cannot stop," Obi-Wan whispered, pressing his lips to Qui-Gon's chest, hungry.

Qui-Gon bent to kiss the top of Obi-Wan's head, his long hair falling about Obi-Wan in a cloud. Feeling somewhat shielded from invisible eyes by this fragile curtain, he pulled his apprentice closer to him, their hearts beating against one another in rapid thumps.

"Why?" he whispered. "Why us?"

Obi-Wan's lips sought his master's, words tumbling in staccato even as his tongue strove to meet another. "They told me, in their legends, two outworlders shall come to return fertility to the land. Famine is real for those living outside the reach of the king's canals."

Qui-Gon's brain scrambled to organize itself, to remember the lessons learned prior to their arrival at A-Tah. The land around them was parched and dry, plants withering in the heat, the reason they had been summoned to help in the first place.

Apparently, the obvious choice of helping to create a larger canal system was not part of it.

"And that we're both men, that doesn't matter?"

Obi-Wan seemed almost impatient. "Apparently not."

The necessity of the act they were surely about to do both frightened and aroused Qui-Gon. Part of his mind viewed this interaction analytically, critical of how this could certainly affect their Jedi partnership, while his baser instincts, crushed under the psychic weight of Obi-Wan's passion, responded eagerly and without any reservation whatsoever.

He wanted Obi-Wan Kenobi.

In truth, he had wanted him for years.

Qui-Gon gave himself up to the touches of Obi-Wan, heat following lips, hands roaming, returning the caresses and kisses as their passion built.

Their own breathless moans sang in chorus with the louder sounds of natives coupling surrounding them, the growing scent of spunk in the air thickening their own lust.

The pressed tightly together, rubbing their cocks together, slowly, then faster, until Obi-Wan pulled away, their sweat-slicked bodies coming apart with a sucking pop.

Obi-Wan dropped to the ground before Qui-Gon, turning away. On his hands and knees, he looked imploringly over his shoulder. "Now, Qui-Gon," he begged, uncharacteristically dropping the title of 'master.' "I need you. Now."

Qui-Gon could not refuse, even had he wanted to. A tiny spike of caution of Code and propriety flashed yellow in his mind, but he could not afford it any attention. The round halves of Obi-Wan's ass glowed white in the moonlight; his head hung between his shoulders as he trembled, waiting.

Qui-Gon ran his hands over the smooth skin, squeezing gently, leaning to one side and then the other, to take in all of Obi-Wan's vulnerability with his eyes. Beneath, Obi-Wan's ball sac swayed enticingly, and he looked for all the world like an animal in heat, waiting to be mounted. Which he was, breathing heavily, arms shaking under the strain.

"Qui-Gon?" he pleaded, sweat dripping to the ground.

"Shhh," Qui-Gon hushed him. "I'm here." He thrust his finger into his mouth to slick it. Desperate though they both were, he had no desire to injure Obi-Wan in the process, nor himself, knowing that while Obi-Wan was not inexperienced in sexual practices, he doubted he had ever been penetrated. That he offered himself so abjectly was evidence of the power of the aphrodisiacs.

He slid the finger into Obi-Wan's puckered anus, moving slowly. Obi-Wan grunted but did not move. Qui-Gon felt his own buttocks clench in sympathy and desire even as he slid a second finger in to join the first. Obi-Wan pushed back against his fingers, tossing his head from side to side. Qui-Gon could see Obi-Wan's lip caught in his teeth, his eyes screwed tightly shut. He leaned his chest against Obi-Wan's back to soothe him. "Try to relax," he murmured.

Obi-Wan sucked in a huge breath, and let it out slowly, lowering his head to the ground. Qui-Gon added a third finger, twisting, and Obi-Wan cried out.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No. Yes. It's all right." He raised his head briefly. "Don't stop."

Qui-Gon withdrew, and took his own cock in hand. He guided the head to the widened opening, pressing.

An incoherent mumble of sounds issued from Obi-Wan's mouth somewhere near the ground, but Obi-Wan did not resist or dissuade him. Swallowing against a suddenly dry mouth, he pushed in, gasping at the tight heat that enveloped him. Velvet, hot, tight. How he'd imagined it would feel. How long he'd waited—

Obi-Wan screamed.

Qui-Gon jerked out and scrambled to his feet, frightened that he had seriously injured the young man, now collapsed prostrate on the ground, shaking.

"Obi-Wan! What is it? What did I do? I hurt you!"

"No. No. I'm all right. I—don't stop." Obi-Wan struggled to his arms and knees again, determined.

Qui-Gon struggled with the pull of the planet's need, and his duty to his padawan.

Drums began to beat around them, reverberating off trees standing stark against a moonlit sky, echoing the beat of his heart.

"I just didn't expect it to—hurt. Not like that. But I'm all right. Go. GO!" Obi-Wan demanded, crawling backwards to reach his master again.

Qui-Gon became aware of his own trembling, his cock pointing straight as an arrow at its intended target, and fell back to his knees, in one motion driving himself home.

Obi-Wan choked off a strangled cry, clenching his jaw shut as he pulled forward and pushed back, working Qui-Gon into a mindless frenzy of pumping, in and out. Skin slapped against skin, ball sacs swung and bumped, until Qui-Gon felt his own draw up and tighten. The pulsing of his release was like no orgasm he'd ever felt before. The sky went from black to blinding white before him, and he collapsed onto the hot body beneath him, gasping for air.

It had to have only been a few seconds, but it seemed far longer, when Qui-Gon came to his senses enough to realize that Obi-Wan had not shared in his release but was gripping the exposed roots of the tree they were beneath, pushing and pulling himself against the parched ground in an effort to find enough friction to come.

Qui-Gon pulled himself free of Obi-Wan's body, and with effort managed to turn Obi-Wan onto his back, propping his head against the tree's trunk. Obi-Wan stared at him, glassy-eyed, his hands reaching for his cock to finish himself off alone.

"No," Qui-Gon said, neatly catching Obi-Wan's wrists and pressing his arms to the ground at his sides. Aware of the sensitivity of his cock brushing against Obi-Wan's body, he bent to lick dusty nipples, circling and nipping until Obi-Wan thrashed against him, lifting his hips rhythmically, until Qui-Gon took pity—under compulsion—and took Obi-Wan's dusty, red, straining cock into his mouth.

The moan Obi-Wan emitted may have been of relief, but it took on a higher tone as Qui-Gon sucked hard, alternating with rubbing the flat of his tongue against the underside of the firm length.  He released Obi-Wan's wrists, and grasped his buttocks, squeezing them as he assisted Obi-Wan in his thrusts. Semen from his own release leaked from Obi-Wan's body to glaze Qui-Gon's fingers, and he moved one hand to enter Obi-Wan again, seeking that spot with a crook of a finger.

Hot and sweet, Obi-Wan spurted jets of fluid into Qui-Gon's mouth, his body jerking spasmodically as he came, his head cracking against the tree behind him. Qui-Gon waited until the pulsations stopped, then carefully withdrew, swallowing what he could, cautiously spitting out what he could not. He coughed, clearing his throat, as Obi-Wan lay gasping on the ground. Qui-Gon stretched out next to him, gathering him close.

"Are you all right now?" he asked, tugging gently at the sweat-soaked braid that lay plastered to Obi-Wan's chest.

"I hit my head on the tree," Obi-Wan whispered, raising a hand to the back of his head. "Other than that, yes. I think so."

Qui-Gon examined Obi-Wan's head, finding a small bump, but no bleeding. "Do you think you can stand?"

"No," was the breathless reply, after Obi-Wan had tried to raise to sitting. He laughed. "I never knew you were such a ravenous lover, Master."

"Oh, we're back to 'Master' now, are we?" Qui-Gon grinned and brushed damp hair from Obi-Wan's forehead. "And I never knew you could be so demanding."

Obi-Wan smiled, resting a weak hand on Qui-Gon's face. "You spat some out. That's good. I didn't really have the wherewithal to tell you what they told me: "seed must touch the soil."

"You were too much to manage, my boy," Qui-Gon laughed.

A smattering of sound surrounded them, the sound of hundreds of feet stamping against the ground. Qui-Gon realized it was applause, the voiceless cheers of joy and thanks at the 'sacrifice' made by the outworlders.

"I guess we succeeded in our mission, Master," Obi-Wan laughed. "I wonder how long before we see any results of our efforts."

The sky had begun to lighten, the stars to fade away. Nearby, on a bush with hardly any leaves, a small white blossom prepared to open to the morning sun.

Qui-Gon bent to kiss Obi-Wan. "I think not long."

They stood, leaning against each other, to gather Qui-Gon's clothing and wrap themselves together in Qui-Gon's robe. Rustles and patters signaled the advance notice being given of the successful ritual to the king, as they walked slowly back to the royal tent, anxious for more food and plenty of rest—in shared quarters.

_~end_


End file.
